Just human
by Arches67
Summary: John is exhausted and needs to rest… Shaw and Zoe tackle the problem...


Fluffy and silly little piece to get over my writer's block. Set anytime during season 4 (before episode 411).

* * *

Giving a last cursory glance around him out of habit, John opened the door and took the stairs down.

He punched the code on the vending machine and groaned when a soda can fell down. He winced in annoyance. Wrong code apparently. _Get a grip, John. _The second try was more successful and the machine opened revealing the secret door.

He sighed. One more stretch of stairs and he would be in the "Cave". The Library had always felt like home. Despite the efforts done by Finch to turn the old subway station into a comfortable shelter, the place still looked too much like a temporary hideout; it lacked the warm atmosphere they had managed to achieve in their previous HQ. As far as safety went, they were secure. Finding this place was bound to be complicated. Still, he missed the Library…

He leaned heavily on the handrail. He was beyond tired. He had just finished the last batch of paperwork that seemed to account for more than half of his job as Detective Riley. Their last number had been taken care of. Hopefully Finch wouldn't have a new number for him. If he could just crash for a few hours…

Suddenly his legs started shivering. He locked his knees, holding on by sheer will. A black veil went through his eyes. _Shit_, he thought. Then everything went dark as his body crumbled and rolled down the stairs.

POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI *

* * *

Consciousness came back slowly. Like swimming through molasses. He finally managed to open his eyes. He blinked several times forcing his brain to come back on-line. Brown walls, subdued light. _Subway station._ He couldn't help a small sigh, and he closed in eyes in relief. At least he was somewhere safe.

Thinking back to his last memory, he winced when he remembered what had obviously happened. His body had given up on him. He knew he was tired, he had recognized the tale-tell warnings, but he didn't have time for that. Up to the moment when his body didn't care anymore about his opinion and had just shut down. At least it had been in the hallway to their office, not on some dubious street of New York.

He turned his head as he heard the familiar shuffle of Finch's steps.

"Welcome back, Mr. Reese," his employer said with light frown.

"Ghh…" He winced when his voice didn't cooperate and cleared his throat. "Finch…"

Finch placed a hand in front of his eyes. "How many fingers?"

"What?" John asked still a bit out of it.

"How many fingers?"

John started rolling his eyes, and stopped. It made him dizzy.

"Four and I did recognize you, so I guess the concussion can be ruled out."

"Not necessarily. But it is a good thing that you are back to your cheery self," Finch added with a fake smile. "At least I know there is nothing major going on."

John glared and started to rise, only to realize he couldn't move. He opened his eyes wide when he saw the restraints on his wrists and ankles.

"What the hell…?" he barked.

Despite the fact that his employee was tied to the bed, Finch couldn't help a step backward in self-preservation.

"Ms. Shaw wanted to make sure you wouldn't move before her return."

"Finch, untie me please," John asked in a low tone far more scary than his previous yell.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Reese. I'm not brave enough to do that. I'd rather face your wrath while you're restrained to that bed, than confront Ms. Shaw's ire if she finds out I did untie you."

"Finch…" John growled this time.

"I believe it is some sort of retaliation," Finch commented.

John stopped fighting against the restraints and looked at the IT genius in surprise.

"I didn't tie her up…"

"I know. It was Root. And I'm pretty sure it was more of a bondage thing than real restraining," said the voice of Sam as she approached carrying a couple of paper bags.

"How are you feeling John?" she asked with a sweet smile.

"What? You're my doctor now?" John shot back, feeling his patience disappear by the second.

"Actually yes."

"Oh, and since when?"

"Well… I'd say right about the moment I picked you up at the bottom of the stairs."

John winced. Right, he had passed out right in the middle of the stairs. And he was starting to feel it acutely. He was in for some serious bruising if the tender muscles were any indication.

"And you can thank that big skull of yours. It's a miracle you didn't break your neck."

Reese closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then to twenty, then listed the different ways he would hurt Shaw. Having finally managed to control his anger, he looked at her with a bland face.

"Would you untie me now, please?" he asked politely in his usual low voice.

Shaw couldn't help a grin.

"How did you get your temper in check? Imagining how you would get back to me?"

John shot her an evil glare.

"You're so predictable..." She shook her head thoroughly amused. Then turned serious. "John, you're exhausted. That little fainting of yours was not a small incident."

"I didn't faint!" John protested. Men didn't faint. Fainting was an eighteen century habit reserved to high society ladies.

Shaw raised a dubious eyebrow and John relented.

"Okay, I passed out. I'll admit I am a bit tired. Just need to rest a bit."

"Tired doesn't even begin to cover it. You should see your blood work."

Out of reflex John looked at the crook of his arm. Sure enough, a band aid covered a vein.

"You didn't…" he growled.

"I am a doctor and I did."

"Untie me Shaw," John repeated in a deceptively low and measured voice.

Finch was watching them mesmerized. It was like witnessing two tornadoes collide. The outcome was unpredictable, and there would be casualties.

"John, you need rest, and vitamins, and stimulants…" Glaring back at him, she added. "John, your iron level gets any lower and your blood won't be red anymore!"

John closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He knew about that. He knew his body well enough to have recognized the symptoms. He just didn't have time to take care of it now. Not with Samaritan so close to them.

"Okay, I'll eat a steak. I'm sure you know where to get the best. Then I'll rest. But even you have to admit that I cannot have a proper sleep in this position."

Shaw smiled at the tactics. She had to admit he was good. She pulled out a needle from one the bags and swabbed his arm in alcohol before pinching him.

"Hey!" John protested. "That still doesn't replace that steak."

He felt a sudden weariness turn his legs to lead. "Shaw… what did… you… give… me…" He head lolled to the side as he fell unconscious.

"Miss Shaw?" Finch asked worriedly.

"He needs more than just a couple of hours of sleep," Sameen explained.

"I'm not sure his system can't take any drugs," Finch explained observing the pasty face of his employee.

"It was just a muscle relaxant." Finch opened his eyes wide. "Yeah, just proves how exhausted he is."

"Big lug asleep?" The cheery voice of Root called from the other side of the room.

Finch turned stiffly. "Ms. Groves? To what do we owe the honor of your visit?"

"Sam called for help." She gave a huge smile to the ex-agent. "Apparently we're moving John out of here." She couldn't hide her glee at taking care an unconscious John.

"Ms. Shaw?" the bespectacled man asked slightly worried.

"Relax Finch. There's no way we can force John to rest in here, so I've enlisted for some help. Ms. Morgan will be taking care of him for a few days. A friend's of hers has this nice cabin in the middle of the woods… No roads, no phones… Better than any prison actually."

"You realize he's going to kill you when he comes back?"

"Tell me something new," Shaw answered with a smile.

POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI *

* * *

Soft, fluffy, warm… John couldn't remember the last time a bed had felt that comfortable. Not totally awake yet, he battled between waking up or keep sleeping in case it was just a dream.

A soft hand brushed his temple.

"Hush, go back to sleep John. I'm Zoe. You're safe… just rest."

Giving up on fighting, John fell back in a deep sleep.

Zoe kept brushing his temple for a while, watching his lovely face. Dark shadows underlined his eyes. The stubble on his cheeks was greyer than ever. She smiled. She loved that unshaved look on him. God, she loved everything in him. And the fact that he apparently trusted her enough to fall back asleep made her heart hurt.

She let her fingers trail on his hair then rose from the bed. She adjusted the blanket and left the room silently.

POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI *

* * *

When Sameen had called to ask for her help, she had feared the worst. She knew they lived a dangerous life and she hadn't actually heard from John for months. He had simply vanished from the face of the earth. Shaw hadn't been very forthcoming on the details: she needed a place where John could rest. Zoe had laughed at that. She couldn't imagine a place that would hold John for long if he didn't want to.

Shaw had explained the problem and Zoe remembered a client's cabin. She knew getting the keys wouldn't be a problem. A phone call later, she was packing a bag for herself and was ready to go. Finch had called her while she waited for Shaw to call back to give her a meeting place.

He had thoroughly thanked her for "her services" and promised to cover for any lost client during the time she would be taking care of John. She had glared at the phone, then hung up without bothering to answer. Two days later she still couldn't help smiling imagining Finch's face at such a rude answer.

She had almost lost it when Shaw arrived, pushing John in a wheelchair. She took a hand to her mouth to hide the gasp, but she couldn't do much to prevent the tears that rushed to her eyes. The man looked awful.

"He's just tired," Shaw explained. "Very tired," she added watching the distraught face of the blond woman.

Root arrived driving a large suburban wheelchair accessible. Shaw opened her mouth to wonder about the car, then remained silent knowing her surprise would only fill Root with pride.

They had loaded John in the car. Zoe sat by his side, not that John needed anyone to watch over him. He was dead to the world. After some bickering, Shaw gave up on driving the car and sat on the passenger seat glaring at her partner.

They left New York, taking the highway towards the cabin. Root kept stealing glances at the rearview mirror. After a few miles, she couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"She's got it bad," she said in wonder.

"Yeah…"

"John?" She exclaimed as if it was self-explanatory.

"They don't all fall for bespectacled professors..." Shaw answered biting her lips to keep from smiling.

Root shot her a dark glare.

"Keep your eyes on the road."

The hacker growled but turned her eyes back to the highway.

"How did they meet anyway?"

"He saved her life."

"A number?"

"Yes, before I was in the picture from what I understood."

"So they're together?"

"No, not really."

"Looks more than friends with benefits to me. At least on her part… Can't tell about John, of course…"

Root focused on the road to pass a truck, Shaw hoped she would drop the subject.

"So, you asked John about it?"

"Like he would share any information."

"With the right incentive."

"Oh, come on. This is John we're talking about. International spy and covert agent."

"Not a chance to get invited to the wedding I guess. Too bad, you could have been my plus one," Root added with a sexy smile.

Shaw shook her head at the antics of their partner, then turned around to watch Zoe. She had taken John's hand in hers, her thumb softly caressing the skin, her eyes never leaving her face.

"He'll be alright. He just needs to rest."

"How could this happen?"

"John is very good at taking care of others. Much less at taking care of himself. We've been all quite busy…"

Shaw made a face. She was a doctor. She was supposed to see that kind of things. She had noticed that John was tired. She hadn't realized how badly.

"Hey… It's not your fault. We know how he gets when he is feeling down," Zoe answered.

_Yes, he disappears, to lick his wounds alone like the solitary wolf he is…_ None of the women voiced out loud what they knew as the truth.

POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI *

* * *

It was actually a pressing need that woke John up the second time. He blinked chasing the cobwebs away. Where was he? Had he imagined hearing Zoe's voice before?

He pushed on his arms to sit up and fell back with a moan when the room started spinning.

An instant later, a soft hand was on his forehead.

"John? You're awake?"

A grunt was her only answer. Zoe chuckled.

"I'll take that as a yes. Can you open your eyes?"

"Only if you stop the carrousel." John crossed his arm over his face.

The young woman smirked.

"I guess you tried sitting up."

"Never been a problem before…" John mumbled, slowly lifting his arm and barely opening his eyes to check if the room had stopped moving. He turned his head to watch Zoe and smiled.

"Hey…"

"Hello yourself," she answered with a smile of her own.

"What happened?"

"When?" Zoe asked, surprised at the question.

"When what?" John answered confused.

Zoe shook her head with a chuckle. "Okay, let's start from the beginning. What do you remember?"

John frowned trying to remember.

"I was going down the stairs to…" He stopped short. He was tired, but his brain still functioned and had just advised him to shut up.

"your place," Zoe supplied with a knowing smile.

"I passed out in the stairs." He locked his eyes on the ceiling, inventorying his body. Nothing felt broken. "I guess I was lucky, didn't break anything."

"Shaw has a theory."

"Of course, she has…" John mumbled.

"Luck is part of it. I think she also mentioned thick headed." Zoe was counting on her fingers as if trying to remember Shaw's diagnosis. "Your winter clothes and your muscles being so untoned that they actually worked as mufflers."

"So basically I was a puddle."

"The word may also have been used…"

John pushed the blankets and started to rise again.

"John, take it easy. You've been lying down for over thirty hours, you might get dizzy."

_No kidding_. He dropped his legs to the ground and hissed when his feet tingled as if a thousand needles were pinching him.

"John, please. You need to rest."

"I need to go to the bathroom," he grumbled.

"Oh. Okay." She put an arm around his waist. "Let me help you."

He rose slowly, grateful for Zoe's help. The dizziness hit him again, and he closed his eyes, clenching his teeth, fighting the nausea. They walked slowly and John started to feel exactly which parts of his body had been in contact with the stairs. Nothing broken indeed, but some serious bruising, and he was stiff as a board.

They made it to the bathroom. He stopped sharply when Zoe started to take him inside.

"I think I can manage from here."

"John, you can barely stand," Zoe scolded. "And it's not like I haven't seen you naked before," she added with an amused smile.

"Zoe, please."

She nodded sobering up. He needed some keep some dignity. She could understand that.

"Just don't lock the door, and call if you need anything."

By the time he was done, he definitely needed Zoe. There was no way he could make it back to the room on his own. What had Shaw given him?

"Zoe?" he called softly.

She was there so fast, he doubted she had stepped away from the door.

Lying down again had never felt so good. His relieved sigh almost verged on a whine. He breathed deeply trying to stop the pants and shivers. He had been tired before, but it had never been this bad. He was worthless, not even able to make it to the bathroom and back on his own. He groaned in anger at his body's betrayal. He rolled to his side and grabbed the pillow, biting the frustrated tears and chest pressure.

He felt the bed dip and a hand rubbed his shoulder softly.

"It's okay John. You're just human. You should remember that sometimes…" Zoe said softly.

She kept caressing his shoulder until the tremors disappeared and the breathing became more even. John was dozing off.

"John, don't fall asleep yet. You need to take your medicine and eat something."

The exhausted agent rolled on his back.

"Not hungry."

"At least, drink something. Getting dehydrated won't help."

John nodded. He knew that. He let Zoe stuff pillows behind his back to recline. He didn't bother asking what pills she was giving him. He trusted Shaw on that part.

He could only swallow a few spoons of broth before he couldn't open his eyes anymore. He let Zoe help him settle under the covers and fell asleep again.

POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI *

* * *

Zoe found him by the French doors, looking at the garden.

"John! What are you doing up?"

He turned his head to look at her and smiled. He extended his arm, and hugged her to his side. Zoe tilted her head. This close to him, with no heels, she felt really small. He kissed her lips softly, then turned his head back to the garden.

"Nice place. Where are we?"

Zoe tensed, not believing for one second that the question was innocuous. John felt the change and looked down at her.

"… And why am I here?"

"To rest?" Zoe answered with an innocent smile.

"Zoe…" John growled.

The fixer untangled herself from John's arms and moved toward the couch.

"Come, sit down." She sighed when he made no move. "John, if you pass out and hurt yourself, Shaw is going to have my side. So please, if you don't do it for yourself, have some pity on me."

That did the trick. John came to sit by her side.

"Of course, Shaw is behind this. She enlisted you to keep watch over me."

"It didn't take much convincing…" She took his hand in hers. "I had worse assignments than resting in a cabin with a handsome man…"

John let his head fall back on the couch, sitting up required too much energy.

"She gave you a gun to make sure I would stay here?"

Zoe bit back a grin. Shaw had indeed offered her a gun, but Zoe had just shown her her own. The pleased smile on Sam's face had been something to remember.

Might as well let John know the exact situation so he would accept it, and then hopefully really rest.

"John, you need to rest. Serious rest. Sam seemed to think that you wouldn't take her advice, so she… _kidnapping_ is probably too strong a word for it, but it basically amounts to that."

John frowned, dreading the rest of the explanation. He was expecting the worst.

"This cabin belongs to a client. We are some forty miles to the closest town. There is no car in the garage and Shaw only put slippers in your bag. There is no land line phone and mobiles only get lousy reception." John turned his head sharply. "I do have a satellite phone for any emergency. Just don't trash the place apart looking for it, please…" She added.

"So, basically I'm a prisoner…" John scowled.

"Try to see it as a nice week-end in the woods… with good company," she added with an expectant tone.

John deflated and pulled her to his side, hugging her softly.

"Sorry I'm such a bear…" he apologized. "I'm glad you're here… I just can't stand feeling this…"

"Helpless?" Zoe supplied. She gave him a light kiss. "It's okay, I understand. I'm not very good at being sick either."

They remained hugging in the couch for a while.

"What about some food?" she offered.

"I could actually eat a cow," John admitted.

"Good. Plenty of red meat in the fridge!" Zoe answered rising up. She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder when he tried to move. "Relax. I'll take care of it."

She grabbed the TV remote. "Here knock yourself out."

"Daytime TV?" John asked with a scared face.

"Act human for once…" Zoe answered with a chuckle.

He started channel surfing. After having gone twice over the some fifty channels available, he turned the TV off with a scowl.

"No wonder people turn to murder. They're just bored out of their minds," he muttered.

He picked up a book underneath the coffee table, and was soon engrossed in the beautiful pictures it displayed.

Zoe arrived with a tray.

"Zoe, I could have come to the table."

"I won't tell if you don't," she answered in a conspiracy tone.

John had left the book open by his side.

"I see you found Rick's book."

"Rick?"

"Yes. This cabin belongs to him."

"Oh," John simply answered.

Zoe couldn't help a chuckle.

"And yes he was a client." John raised an eyebrow in open curiosity, and Zoe shook her head giving up. "Let's just say that sometimes you think you're just taking a picture, and it turns out you're shooting the wrong place… or people."

John had taken enough pictures in his life to fill several encyclopediae, he could understand the risks.

They were enjoying a cup of coffee after their lunch. John was having more and more trouble keeping his eyes open. Zoe took the cup from his hand and helped him lie down on the couch. She covered him with the plaid lying on the armchair, and put a small kiss on his cheek.

"Sweet dreams," she whispered.

POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI *

* * *

John woke up to find Zoe sitting on the coffee table watching him. It was slightly unnerving and he wondered how long she had been keeping watch.

"Did I snore or something?" he asked tentatively. He knew sometimes the nightmares took the best of him…

"No. Just enjoying watching your face," Zoe admitted.

Smiling ruefully, John sat up and reached out to her. She gladly curled by his side. John noticed the fireplace and the fire going on.

"This is nice," he admitted.

He tilted his head and kissed her softly. Zoe returned the kiss eagerly. Sliding gently, he laid down, bringing Zoe on top of him, never letting go of her lips. After a while, she let go of his lips with a moan.

"John, you need to rest."

"This is relaxing…" He slipped his hand under her blouse.

"John!" she scowled.

"What?" he complained, his hand sliding under her bra, grinning when he heard her hiss of pleasure. "Nothing more relaxing than endorphins…"

Zoe moaned, half pleasure, half frustration at having to move, and rolled of couch. John whimpered. She breathed deeply, trying to come down from her high. That man would be the end of her. He could drive her crazy just with his hands…

"I know where you can relax!" She exclaimed pleased her voice was firm. "The hot tub."

That did seem to pick John's interest. He looked down at her, she was still on the floor. "Yeah, that would be nice," he answered with a seductive smile.

"Alone," Zoe shot back.

"Killjoy!" John grumbled.

He had to admit the hot water and sprays felt wonderful on his sore muscles. No amount of coaxing got Zoe to join him in the tub though. Soon his eyes started to droop.

"Alright, John. This is enough for you. Get out of there before you drown."

He didn't have the strength to fight and obediently let Zoe help him dry off before going back to bed.

"Stay with me," he whispered, holding her hand.

She wasn't strong enough to say no. As usual, she surrendered to John's requests, wondering how she could still keep chiding herself as the best fixer in town, the woman so many feared...

POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI * POI *

* * *

Zoe managed to keep in charge for another day and a half, but soon she realized no amount of coaxing or necking (she had found out it worked quite well) would keep John in place.

She found him outside, on the front porch, watching the driveway. She sighed deeply.

"No need to run away, John. I'll call the cavalry," she informed him, holding the satellite phone in her hand.

John only nodded. Chuckling lightly, she dialed Shaw's number.

"Sam, unless you're ready to remove a bullet from him, I think you should come and pick up your partner. I've run out of tricks," she admitted.

"Well I'm not his personal chauffeur, so you'll have to hold on to him for a few more hours!" Shaw answered.

"I'll think of something. Thanks." She ended the call and looked at John.

"Satisfied?" she asked drily.

John winced in self-recrimination. Zoe had been nothing if not adorable and helpful. He couldn't blame her for his own stubbornness. He knew he had been careless with his health. He wrapped her in a hug.

"I'm sorry…" he apologized softly.

"Yeah, well you can be," Zoe complained in a plaintive voice.

"I'll make up for it," John promised. He put two fingers under her chin and brought his lips to hers. "How long before Shaw shows up?"

"A few hours," Zoe mumbled between his lips.

"Good…" He kissed her deeply. "Plenty of time for apologizing then," he added with a flirty look.

In a swift moment, he lifted her in his arms and carried her inside. He was perfectly rested, in a lovely cabin in the woods with the most beautiful woman in his arms. Life couldn't get any better…

* * *

The end.


End file.
